Saturday, May 30, 2009

Cheese Cow says ...

When I was a kid, it was s STRICT rule, if you eat food, you can't go in the pool for 30 minutes or YOU'LL DIE!

I'm not a big pool-hanger-arounder, as a matter of fact, I despise pools because of a childhood trauma - I was a skinny little fart - no body fat at all. Heated pools simply didn't exist back then. My mother insisted that my brother and I take swimming lessons. Not a bad idea, but we lived all over the world, and not once did we live in a warm, tropical paradise. So getting in the pool sucked. I'd turn blue and through chattering teeth, plead with my Mom, "I'm-m-m g-g-g-going t-t-to d-d-d-d-d-d-die. D-d-d-d-don't m-m-make m-m-m-me d-d-do this M-M-M-Mom! Chatter, chatter chatter." And then I'd sink to the bottom.

You know the old life-saving trick, "If you just relax, you'll float." Bullshit. I purposely tried it many times and sank faster than the Titanic. Bones and skin DO NOT FLOAT. I'd bob like a cork now - fat DOES float.

When I "swim" ... well, picture a chihuahua loaded up on amphetamines trying to swim the length of a pool. There you go - that's me swimming. My ass stays in a boat or on shore. Period.

Back to the subject, the 30 minute rule, where the hell did that go? I've never heard it again since my childhood. Have snacks changed? Mothers know which anti-drowning snacks to purchase for the pool? "Johnny, you know you shouldn't be eating potato chips when you go swimming - have a Cheetos instead - it's drown proof."

Just curious.

In Quest of the $117 Hot Dog

My wife and I are going to San Francisco in August for our anniversary, but I was 2 points short of a free ticket with Southwest. So....

7:00 am - I flew to Chicago to get a hot dog in the Midway Airport.

7:23 am - The OJ was good, but vodka in it would have been better.

7:28 am - I got a shot of the AstroDome. The pilot must have gotten lost.

8:10 am - One of the most beautiful cities in the world and this is what I saw of it...plane asses.

8:47 - The locals weren't very friendly at first...

9:08 am - But they loosened up after a couple shots of tequila. Those boys have a problem - doing shots at 9 am.

9:17 am - The Air Force must have mistaken me for a Japanese person as they tried to attack me. Though I NEVER know what day it is at any given time, I'm pretty sure it wasn't December 7th.

9:54 am - The streets in Chicago are narrow. But you don't have to walk - they walk for you.

10:02 am - AT LAST!!! The $117 HOT DOG!!! ($107 for airfare + $10 for the hot dog). I didn't eat the jalapenos - it smells bad enough cooped up on an airplane.

10:45 am - Swallowed the hot dog and jumped back on a Louisville-bound plane.

11:07 am - Contemplating the idiocy of my actions - flying to Chicago for a Hot Dog and 2 points ... who does that? Moments after this shot, I spilled my Dr. Pepper in the leather seat next to me and all over my crotch. Now I look like I've pissed myself. And the flight attendant is NOT happy.

11:45 am - Home again. Mayor Jerry even welcomed me home. That was special. Everybody is staring at my wet crotch.

The cost of the hot dog just went up to $129 - I forgot about parking.

But I GOT the 2 POINTS!!!

This means WAR HHJH!

In retaliation for Chocolate Rain - try getting this one out of your head.